


Fairytale Of New York

by snailthesaints



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homeless, Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Homelessness, M/M, Songfic, Ten Years Later, festive emo gets emo over festivities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5271770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailthesaints/pseuds/snailthesaints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>28 year old Frank's been homeless for a year and a half now, and Christmas is the worst time of year. He's waiting on a miracle, and maybe despite everything he's got his wish.</p><p>Basically this is a lame pile of crap bc I'm obsessed with the song fairytale of new york and I love writing a bunch of cheesey cringey festive bs :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairytale Of New York

**Author's Note:**

> YO
> 
> listen to this: https://youtu.be/DZljiolVQBI
> 
> then listen to this: https://youtu.be/u8rjrPIGZ5U
> 
> then listen to this: https://youtu.be/Pv0hlbWpa1w
> 
> then read my scribblings
> 
> ((ps ik those songs are hella problematic but like I think its kinda ironic and also its from like ages ago what can ya do))

Frank sat cross legged on the pavement. He fucking hated Christmas, every part of it. Of course, he’d prefer it if he actually had family he could share it with and the mall he lived outside of didn't play the same fucking songs over and over and over and over a-goddamn-gain. And if it weren’t so damn cold. The entirety of winter killed Frank, especially so with his shitty immune system, he was certain this would be the year he’d end up dead from hypothermia, frostbite or some obscure infection that travels in sub zero temperatures.  
He kept his head down and hood up, fiddling with some coins in his guitar case, terrified someone he knew would see him like this. He didn't even have his guitar to give him a purpose and earn him money, some teenagers had dealt with that. He had literally been reduced to nothing more than a begger.  
There were some upsides to Christmas time, albeit few. Shops were busier which meant more food being chucked out, which meant more food for Frank. People also tended to become a little bit nicer, more coins made their way into his hands at least, even some food and winter supplies. And though spending Christmas day on the streets is one of the worst scenarios Frank could imagine, he’d tended to have some of his most memorable encounters on or around that day. Last year he’d spent 2 hours chatting to a 15yo who needed to get away from family for a bit and ended up convincing her to tell her parents about her eating disorder. She’d promised to come back and tell him how it went but she never did, becoming another person who got away. He thought about them a lot, the ones who got away. He was bitter, so fucking bitter, but deep down he truly hoped the people of his past and the people he’d met had found happiness, even if they had parted ways on bad terms.  
That’s another thing about Christmas, it makes you reminisce. Over and over again, Frank looped every mistake he’d ever made in his mind, to the tune of ‘last Christmas’. He wondered, even fantasized about the people from his hometown in new jersey, the people who shaped his as a person and watched him grow up. And the select people who he naively truly believed he’d spend his life with at the time. None of them would have predicted this as Frank’s future, and if anyone saw him now, he knew they’d be repulsed.  
And back to his pit of self hatred he returned.  
He smiled a small smile as one of his ‘favourite’ Christmas songs came on. Happy Christmas (War is Over) by John Lennon. He kept flipping the coin over in his hand as he hummed sadly.  
He slowly realised he’d done nothing. He wouldn't be having fun. He had no near and dear ones. And war didn't seem to be over any time.  
But as the second verse began he could feel a sense of comfort inside.  
That’s another thing Christmas brings, hope. An old friend Frank had long said goodbye to. And as he softly sung under his breath, for the moment it returned.  
However, before he even realised, a few minutes passed, some shit version of jinglebell rock played and Frank returned to waiting for a miracle or death. Whichever came first. Probably death.  
The wait wasn’t long though, because a matter of seconds later piano keys rang out through crowds. He tutted, realising it was a busker round the corner, with electrical equipment, inevitably taking all Franks potential income that day. And then.

_I don’t want a lot for christmas_

Frank froze as soon as the lyrics reached his ears.

 _There is just one thing I need_  
Gerard.

 _I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree_  
He knew it. The slightly nasally but oh so fucking perfect voice of Gerard Way. He’d never forgotten it.  
_I just want you for my own_  
His Gerard was busking, just round the corner.  
_More than you could ever know_  
He couldn’t see Frank like this though. But Frank needed to see Gerard. Just a glimpse.  
_Make my wish come true_  
Frank leapt up without a second thought.

_Baby, all I want for Christmas is you._

He peaked round the wall slightly, only his eye and a bit of hair visible. But he saw him. His Gerard. His Gerard sat crosslegged on a table from the food court, singing acapella with two guys stood behind him one with a small keyboard and one with a guitar.  
He looked very different, but there was no doubt it was him. He’d lost a lot of weight, but you would in 10 whole fucking years. His hair was shocking red and cut shorter than the previously longer than shoulder length jet black locks he remembered.  
The guy with the guitar had began playing - badly, turning mariah carey into some sort of shit rock. But Gerard made it so fucking good, he sung passionately, bobbing his head while clearly wanting to leap off the table and act like he was playing an arena.  
Frank watched in shock for a few moments.  
Then he was filled with pride. Gerard was okay and not dead. In all the thinking he had been doing over all this time, most of it had centered around praying to everyone, anyone and no one that Gerard was at most doing well, had found all the happiness in the world and his every single fucking wish had come true, and at least still alive. And if Frank were honest, he doubted he would be. But by some fucking miracle he was and was metres away.  
Then he started crying. He’d missed him. So much. He was so sorry. He didn't mean to hurt him, he could never intentionally hurt him but he had no excuse. He was young, angry and stupid and he fucked up the best thing that’d ever happened to him. But seeing him sat there, he just wanted to race over and leap on top of him. Just for a moment at least.  
Then Gerard spotted him. He had glanced sideways but locked eye contact on Frank, missing the next few notes. This was Frank's cue to leave. Gerard couldn't see him like this.  
He stared at Gerard, taking in every detail, ingraining an image in his mind. Gerard stared back, seeming to sing even more passionately, a grin spreading across his face, barely blinking.  
Reluctantly, Frank took a deep breath before turning back round the corner and sitting in his spot. He considered running away and hiding but decided it’s better to hide in plain sight. If Gerard came round here, he would barely look at the irrelevant homeless guy and he’d never dream it’d be Frank. And as long as Frank kept his head down, no one really saw his face anyway.  
He sat listening to Gerard sing just around the corner. He could tell the song was nearing the end, in fact as Gerard sang his own lyrics and the guitar increased in out-of-tune intensity, it barely sounded like the original at all. He listened to Gerard’s voice, it got quieter and Frank knew he was doing that breathey angry whisper thing he always did. He giggled slightly, it doesn’t work acapella, you just get quieter, dumbass. But he also noticed how Gerard’s voice had developed, reaching notes he was sure he wouldn't’ve last time he’d heard him sing.  
Frank closed his eyes, trying to take in every sound but just like the other Christmas song he’d hummed along to earlier, minutes decided to pass something other than agonisingly slowly and suddenly Gerard was fading out into a torrent of ‘you’s.  
As the small crowd dispersed and the air was filled with the same old chatter and hum of the radio,Frank couldn't help but wonder if Gerard had been talking about him. Inside he hoped he was but for all he knew Gerard could be married with kids.  
He wondered what he was doing just round the corner. Had he left yet? Was he talking to people? Was he gonna play another song? He clearly wasn't that fussed about seeing Frank and it hurt a little, even though he knew overall he should’ve been relieved.  
Suddenly another song came on the mall radio catching Frank's attention. He recognised it instantly, _fairytale of new york_. 

He knew it was Gerard's favourite, as well as his own and a tiny little ‘maybe it’s meant to be’, danced through his head before he promptly shut it up.  
And then from just round the corner, that voice rung out.  
“Frank!” Gerard called “Fucking hell, Frank!!”  
Frank looked at the floor as he could hear quick footsteps.  
“Frank Iero!!”  
Moments later, the footsteps turned round the corner and as his calls became a gentle “Frankie” Frank knew he’d recognised him.  
He tuned him out, keeping his head down, hoping he would assume he got the wrong person.  
The footsteps got closer but he still didn't dare look up, focusing on the song lyrics instead.

 _They’ve got cars big as bars_  
This fucking song.  
_They’ve got rivers of gold_  
The image of Christmas eve 10 years ago as they were laying on the sofa, drunkenly singing along flashed through his mind and he felt a pang in his chest.  
_But the wind goes right through you_  
How they held hands  
_It’s no place for the old_  
How they truly thought they were gonna make it.  
_When you first took my hand_  
“Frank fucking talk to me”  
_On a cold Christmas eve_  
For a moment they listened.

_You promised me  
Broadway was waiting for me_

“Ironic, huh?” Frank piped up. He knew there was no point hiding from him and it was best to get a mildly sarcastic comment in first.  
He looked right up at Gerard, who stood shifting uncomfortably, now much much closer. He was wearing combat boots and skinny jeans with a leather jacket that looked like it was sent down from heaven itself.

 _You were handsome_  
“What happened, Frank?”  
_You were pretty_  
“Well… _Queen Of New York City_ , I don't fucking know” Frank replied, timing the nickname to fit the song perfectly.  
“Oh my god” Gerard started “Oh fuck Frank, come here”  
Before Frank even got the chance to reply, Gerard had fallen to the floor and enveloped him in a hug.  
“I really wouldn't recommend hugging me” Frank got out but ended up wrapping his arms around Gerard. The held onto eachother for what could've been 2 full minutes, swaying side to side slightly. Eventually, they pulled away, sitting crosslegged opposite eachother and a slight awkwardness set in.  
“I really would recommend hugging you, I don’t care how you smell” Gerard replied suddenly, about 2 minutes too late. Clearly nothing had changed over 10 years.  
Frank made a noise between a scoff, hum and thank you. And was painfully aware that while Gerard looked like a literal angel on earth Frank looked disgusting.  
“You’re 32 now right?” Frank asked, still aware of their Christmas song playing in the background, the entire situation crazily surreal.  
“Yeah”  
“I never thought I’d see the day, Gerard Way, aged 32”  
“Me neither”  
“What’s been happening then?”  
Gerard frowned, unsure where to start.  
“Well I got clean, not longer after we uh split”  
“Shit, well done” Frank interrupted “I'm so proud”  
“Thank you” Gerard smiled, looking away “Then I became an comic book artist, then I got fired, then I moved to new york and had a kid now we’re here.”  
Frank sat for a moment surprised, unsure which piece of information to deal with first.  
“Y-you had a kid??” Frank repeated.  
“Yep”  
“Congratulations”  
“What is it??” Gerard whined, picking up on Frank's tone of disbelief.  
“Nothing, I just didn't have you down as the parenting type”  
“Well, yeah it wasn't planned, but I wouldn't change it for the world”  
“Wait you’re straight??”  
“No, Frankie, bisexuality exists”  
“Sorry, yeah, I just thought you were like completely gay”  
“So did I until I met lynz”  
“Well congratulations, with building a family and all that, really”  
“Oh no” Gerard chuckled sadly “It’s not like that, Lynz got a divorce last year and she wants custody of bandit”  
“Bandit?” Frank repeated.  
“Yep, my daughter” he replied proudly.  
“Oh okay” Frank said, nothing had changed, only Gerard would name a child ‘bandit’ and he loved that about him “Do you have a good chance?”  
“Honestly, I don't think so” he sighed. It hurt Frank to see the sadness flickering across his face. “I keep fucking up and they blow everything outta proportion and rip you to shreds, I don’t have a leg to stand on”  
“Hey, sure you do” Frank tried to reassure. He was still in awe that Gerard was sat in front of him, he looked carefully at him, taking in every detail. He’d obtained a jawline you could cut yourself on and his skin was ever so slightly rougher, with even a bit of stubble, 22 year old Gerard wouldn't’ve been seen dead with stubble. But it was still him, he still had the little pimple on his pixie nose and those same fucking eyes, he’d been lost in oh so many times. From what Frank remembered, Gerard was perfect father material but undeniably prone to ‘fucking up’.  
“How have you fucked up?” he asked.  
“I just have, after Lynz and I split, I relapsed, I didn't get drunk which is good, but I got high and now she’s using that along with everything from my past, and the nature of me as a person against me. Like one time I had bandit for the weekend and she was asking me questions about new jersey so I got in the car and took her there but apparently because I didn't provide 2 weeks notice, it’s being played out as an attempted fucking kidnapping which isn't what it was at all”  
Frank sighed, at how that's such a typically Gerard thing to do. He knew Gerard’s a good person though with a heart about the size of the moon.  
“That’s so out of order. What about ...lynz, was it?”  
The awkwardness had long passed by this point, for Gerard at least. He’d always worn his emotions on his sleeve and trusted almost anyone with his problems, something that didn’t always play out well for him. But he seemed comfortable rambling to Frank and that was nothing but a good thing. It didn’t feel real to Frank though, his mouth was saying the right things but inside he was imploding. He was sat next to his long lost soulmate, if he could call him that, listening to him chat about his ex and battle for custody of his daughter. Was he fucking tripping??  
“Yeah. Lindsey. She’s an elementary school teacher with a 3 bedroom house in the suburbs; an ex druggie criminal queer dude, in a 16th floor apartment, busking and dabbling in male prostitution has no chance” he said with an ironic chuckle.  
Frank sighed once again.  
“Why’d you and lindsey split?”  
He’d realised he’d hit a nerve as Gerard looked away and immediately regretted asking.  
“She cheated” he murmured.  
Immediately, Frank was overwhelmed with guilt and regret as he remembered his and Gerard’s January night that he’d ruined it all. The stupid argument they’d had, the first proper one in their relationship. How he’d stormed into the bar, not even thinking straight. The shitty unfamiliar sex. And then Gerard's face. Just the image, the hurt written across his features, the heartbreak in his eyes as he stood in the doorway. The weeks of ignored calls that soon became months of no calls at all. Which became years and suddenly they were here a decade later. And someone had done it to him again.  
“I’m sorry” he said.  
“S’alright”  
“No seriously, I’m so fucking sorry”  
“It’s alright”  
“It’s not, Gerard, you didn't deserve me and you don't deserve this Lindsey woman” he ranted.  
“If you say so”  
Gerard clearly didn't believe him and it broke his heart a little.  
“Shit, Gerard I’m so sorry, I was young and angry and I made a massive fucking mistake and I’ve regretted it for the past 10 years. And I understand why you hated me, but I really hope all this time you knew I loved you”  
“I could never hate you, I just, I overreact, I’m sorry, I should’ve at least had the decency to listen to your side, I fucked up”  
“It’s okay, you didn't, I-I, I wish I had a side to tell” Frank admitted. There was a moment of silence between the pair, and Frank could almost hear Gerard’s brain whirring, he wished he knew what thoughts were going through it but mostly prayed he wouldn't leap up and run away.  
“I’m sorry, Frank, for everything” Gerard said eventually.  
“What have you got be sorry for?”  
“Would you like a list?” he chuckled slightly. Almost immediately Frank remembered some of the things that’d make that list. He convinced him dropping out of school to pursue their band was a good idea. He’d crashed his first car. Not to mention the dozens of spontaneous life decisions they’d made together. But after the years of anger had passed, he’d long forgiven Gerard.  
“Okay, just, I’m sorry too. For everything.” Frank replied, looking straight up at him, still fiddling with the same coin.  
“We on good terms then?” Gerard asked.  
“Gerard, to me at least, we were never on bad terms”  
“That's good”  
To Frank's surprise, Gerard wrapped his arms round Frank again.  
“I missed you” Gerard whispered into the embrace.  
“So did I”  
Frank could feel a lump growing in his throat, he was actually hugging his Gerard again, he never thought this would happen.  
“Gerard, I’m so happy you’re okay, I thought you were dead or something by now” he murmured, his voice cracking a little.  
“Fuck, Frank, no, why would you think that? I’m staying very much alive”  
“I never thought I’d hear you say those words, you know, you were a mess when I last saw you” he said, softly.  
“Yeah well, I still am, just less dangerously and much prettier” Gerard replied, with a smirk, despite the glistening in his eyes.  
“Oh fuck, you don't know how hard I’ve been wishing that would be the case, and trust me out here, you do a lot of wishing”  
“Frank” Gerard started, changing tone “Why are you out here?”  
“Well, my parents still hate my guts so like 5 years ago I moved to New York to chase my dreams, but I couldn't find a job and had no qualifications - no thanks to you -”  
“I’m sorry” Gerard cried, interrupting him “So fucking sorry”  
Frank wanted to get pissed at Gerard, but he knew it wasn't worth it and already regretted the jokey comment, Gerard would be beating himself up about it already.  
“Stop being sorry, regret won’t do either of us good, we were young and time travel doesn't exist yet, let's just leave the past in the past yeah?” he said eventually.  
“Okay. Yeah. Thank you. You were saying?”  
“I got in arrears with the rent and couldn't pay back loans and got pretty deep in debt then a bunch of my stuff got repossessed then I got evicted and had no choice but to camp out here with my guitar. And then the other month some teenagers smashed my guitar and now I’m here”  
“Pansy?”  
Frank smiled, surprised Gerard remembered the nickname he’d given the guitar he’d had for the last few weeks of their relationship.  
“No, I left her with Ray before I moved into the city. This acoustic I bought from a thrift store”  
“Oh right. That’s shitty”  
Almost immediately Frank wanted to change the subject.  
“So, anything good happened with you in the past decade?”  
“Mikey got married- Oh my god! And I met Billy Corgan!” Gerard replied far too excitedly.  
Some could say Frank died right there and lost all ability to ‘even’, but Frank Iero is punk rock and not in any way a fangirl at heart. Either way, he listened avidly as Gerard meticulously explained every moment of their 30 second encounter. Listening to Gerard happily chatting was genuinely like a dream come true for Frank, all his worries (and he had a lot of them) fizzled out and became irrelevant. Gerard was, and always had been, completely intoxicating.  
As minutes ticked by, the conversation moved onto all the other cool encounters and funny little stories they both had to tell. Talking to eachother became so easy, eachother’s presence fitting like a glove, making Frank wonder how they ever lost this in the first place. They definitely fit together, even just platonically. Gerard provided just the right replies to anything Frank brought up and filled all the right gaps in the conversation as well as in Frank's personality. Frank spent most of the hour they chatted grinning and laughing the most he had in a long long time. They got on like a house on fire, but eventually the conversation came to a close.  
Comfortable silence fell over the pair as they savoured in what had just been.  
Gerard pulled his phone out his pocket, looking at the time.  
“I need to go soon” he sighed “I have to clean up my place because bandits coming round”  
Frank felt his heart drop but could almost hear Gerard's doing the same. They both knew they both wanted this moment to last forever. The thought of saying goodbye and being hit in the face with their own shitty realities made their hearts break.  
“Okay” Frank replied “It was nice seeing you”  
“You too”  
He picked up that coin again and began flipping it over in his hand, like he had been doing all day.  
“Frank Iero, why are you on the streets of new york and why am I 32? Why aren't we touring the globe with my chem right now? What happened?” Gerard asked suddenly.  
Frank paused for a moment trying to think about it.  
“We’re just not I guess, it was never gonna happen” he answered finally.  
“It was though, what happened to all those dreams we had? where did it all go?”  
“I don't know”  
Another moment passed, Frank watching as Gerard tapped around on his phone. His had been dead for the past year and gotten lost somewhere along the way.  
“Frank, I really gotta go” he stated reluctantly, audibly getting choked up.  
“Okay” Frank murmured “But, you know, come back and say hi sometime yeah?”  
Gerard didn't reply, looking down at his phone. Frank just watched him, taking in every detail. If they were never gonna see eachother again, he needed to remember it properly, the moment of perfection he wanted to cling onto forever.  
“Fuck Frank you’re living with me, at least over christmas” Gerard stated decisively.  
“I can't Gerard” Frank replied almost immediately, with a tone of exasperation.  
“Unless you have a legitimate reason, you can and you will”  
“But what about bandit coming round?”  
“I don't know okay, but I can't leave you here”  
“Really? Shit Gerard, stop making on the spot life decisions, how's your ex suddenly living with you gonna look? I don’t take up much space, but do you even have room for me? And what about today? What are you gonna tell bandit?”  
“I don't know, but we’ll work it out, look it’s gonna rain, you’re coming with me”  
Reluctantly Frank agreed. It didn’t take much, deep down, it wasn’t really reluctant at all.  
He smiled fondly as Gerard squealed and leapt up excitedly.  
“My place is kinda gross but I put posters up” he explained quickly “There's some damp but I hid it with tinsel and sprayed loads of perfume. You can have my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa unless you wanna share”  
“Gerard” Frank said, with a slight warning tone.  
“Also it’s only small but it’s nice, it’s high up but you like heights right? It has a fucking power shower though, and I could cook a proper dinner- Oh yeah! I went vegetarian too!! You’re still vegetarian right?”  
Frank could feel excitement bubbling up inside him at the idea of a power shower and a warm dinner, but had to keep his cool, especially as Gerard seemed to have left his ‘cool’ back in new Jersey - if he ever had any in the first place (Frank didn't think he had).  
“Sounds good, um I try to be yeah” he replied “but Gerard, chill”  
“Okay okay, is this all your shit then?” he asked, gesturing towards the sleeping bag, cardboard and small backpack surrounding Frank.  
“Yep”  
Frank stood up, picking up his backpack. He looked down at his cardboard, sleeping bag and guitar case, unsure what to do with them.  
“Are you gonna be bringing them? you won't need them anytime soon” Gerard asked.  
Frank thought for a moment, he really should, in case all this falls through.  
“I don’t know”  
“Hey! You could leave them and then someone else who needs bedding or some change or something might find them and make it their home”  
Gerard was right.  
“Good point”  
“Fuck Frank, I’m gonna buy you so many presents this year, I don't even care what you say, it’s gonna be so good. We should busk together- shit can we watch star wars together again? And home alone” Gerard gabbled.  
“Gerard, chill” Frank repeated.  
“We should call up Ray and get the band back together!”  
“Gerard, chill” Frank stated, for the third time “Let's just focus on today yeah?”  
And that was that. Frank slung his backpack round his shoulders and dared to hope things were sort of gonna be okay.  
Gerard started walking in the opposite direction, calling Frank behind him. Smiling, he took a few small steps after him before looking back at his ‘spot’. He didn't know how to feel. Was this it? He felt a moment of sadness, as he looked at it, aware Gerard had paused walking. However, mostly he could feel his chest tensing with excitement. But before he came up with anything too sentimental Frank spun round on his heel and started walking, vowing never to look back again.  
“You good?” Gerard asked.  
“Better than ever” he smiled back.

Once again, Gerard pulled him into a hug and Frank rested his head on his shoulder as they began walking through the market. He’d missed human contact.  
They didn't talk much on the way home, but they were both silently ecstatic.  
Frank didn't know whether he believed in fate, or miracles, or God but he was incessantly thanking any higher power out there, because they had clearly been in his corner today. There was this warmth in his chest, he’d missed for so fucking long. Happiness. Hope. It was gonna be alright. He felt glad to not have died yet. Glad to be alive.  
Once they got out onto the streets they could see all the houses, decorated with snowflakes and flashing lights and candles. Frank had gone on a few walks before to pass the time, if he could be bothered, but he’d never paid attention.  
Gerard cooed at some as they walked, pointing at the flashiest and smiling as he saw Frank smile back.  
It was generic, and Frank wanted to beat himself up for thinking like a pretentious asshole, but as they walked past a house they could genuinely hear children laughing and he knew christmas was in the air.  
Somehow over just a few hours everything was becoming imperfectly perfect.  
He knew not to get his hopes up too high, after all he was a hobo going to stay in the dingey high rise apartment of an ex criminal slash prostitute slash busker slash ever so slightly mentally unstable unemployed ‘lowlife’. And he was okay with that. Beyond okay.  
They’d spent months hating eachother and if their relationship were to become romantic or sexual again, it’d only end badly. But it was undeniable, they loved eachother. They weren't ‘in love’ but they had a bond that hadn't been broken by the 10years apart. Gerard was a friend letting another friend stay, but spiritually they were at home and they hadn't even got there yet.  
They weren't in a world famous band, signing autographs and touring the world, but that was okay. When they were young, they’d been too busy doing crazy things and chasing their insane ambitions, they hadn't realised that right then they had been living their dream. They hadn't realised they had been making memories.  
Over time, Frank had slowly realised happiness comes in little pockets in the present, and as he headed home he knew it to be true. Parties and tour buses had been what he wanted but what he needed was that power shower Gerard mentioned, a mince pie (or 8) and a lame joke to tell that’ll make Gerard smile.  
And as they walked down the street, Franks every 11:11 wish coming true, that goddamn song slipped back behind his thoughts.

_I could have been someone_

_Well so could anyone_  
You took my dreams from me  
When I first found you 

_I kept them with me babe_  
I put them with my own  
Can't make it all alone  
I've built my dreams around you 

_The boys of the NYPD choir_  
Still singing "Galway Bay"  
And the bells are ringing out  
For Christmas day 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope u enjoyed that pile of crap, tysm for reading :)  
> this is my first fic on here so be nice also I think I might make it part of a one shot series maybe idk  
> also follow me on twitter @eventideiero
> 
> okay ily bye and also merry christmas


End file.
